An Unholy Alliance Chapter Nineteen
by InSilva
Summary: Chapter Nineteen of "An Unholy Alliance". Unsurprisingly.


An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: sigh. Not mine. On the plus side, not Bryn's either.

A/N: This chapter is part of "An Unholy Alliance" which is generally a T-rated fic. This chapter isn't.

Chapter Nineteen: Aftermath

* * *

Danny opens the door to the room and drops the video tape to the floor. As Rusty pushes the door to behind them, Danny is already reaching for him and Rusty allows himself to disappear into a fierce embrace. He needs it so very badly and he rests his head on Danny's shoulder, feeling Danny's hand pressing up against his cheek, cradling the sore spot where his punch landed.

"You should have ice or something."

_Fuck the ice._

Danny's thumb runs gently over the mark on Rusty's face and his face crumples and recovers.

_Hit and hurt again. Rus…_

_Danny…_

"I'm sorry, Rus, I am so, so sorry."

And it's more than ridiculous guilt about the punch that shouldn't have been. It's about not thinking far enough ahead, not anticipating Bryn, not finding a way to stop what has just happened from happening. And that is ridiculous too.

"Danny…don't…"

And he takes hold of the hand that is gently stroking his face and briefly kisses it, telling Danny there is nothing to apologise for.

"C'mon."

Danny steers him over to the couch and they slump down together, Rusty's fingers already unscrewing the bottle of whisky. They take a swig each and then Rusty says, "You first".

Danny smiles mirthlessly.

"Short story. He disappeared after you into that room. They took me away and locked me up. I went out of my mind."

He runs a hand over his forehead and Rusty knows that the pictures that have been running through him have been explicit and violent and awful. Rusty gently peels Danny's hand away from his face and pushes the whisky into it. Danny takes a long drink.

"You?" Danny asks. "And you tell me every goddamned thing."

His eyes are fierce on this point and Rusty understands the reason. Because Bryn will be playing and concealed knowledge will wound and God knows, enough damage has been done already. He shrugs.

"Short story too. He stripped off, jerked off and mouthed off."

"Long version." Danny is definite.

Rusty closes his eyes and emptiness swamps him. Defeat and desecration run through him. _Nothing_ has happened. The coiled tension has been unbearable, wound and wound and wound to the point of brittlesnap. He feels wrung out and drained and lifeless. Nothing _has _happened. Bryn hasn't touched him. Bryn hasn't attacked him or held him down or forced himself on him. Bryn hasn't laid a finger on him. And yet he feels so very, very… Nothing has _happened_. He swallows hard: Danny is waiting.

"Spent the night with my back pressed up against a door I couldn't open. While he ate. While he showered. While he took in a movie. While he made friends with his right hand. While he sat and watched me. While he talked." Rusty is back in the room with Bryn. "While he talked…fuck…"

The whisky bottle finds its way into his hand and he takes a swig.

"He wouldn't tell me where you were. He…" Rusty takes another drink. "He wouldn't tell me what was happening to you. I kept asking…"

"You hit him." It's not a question. Danny has seen the evidence.

"Yeah." Rusty opens his eyes and studies his knuckles. "He just lay on his back and took it. Didn't lift a finger. I was so angry…"

He had been angry. And the anger had sustained him for a while. Until it just hadn't been enough.

"…I kept waiting. Waiting and waiting and waiting… I kept thinking that any moment he would… Danny… Oh, he got so close…"

His hand covers his mouth and the shaking starts and he can't control it and he feels Danny's arm go round him, quelling the trembling and he feels Danny press his lips to his temple and that should be soothing, that should be comforting, that should be reassuring as it always is…

"What is it?" Danny's voice is sharp.

Rusty is silent for a moment and then he pulls a face.

"He wouldn't tell me where you were. And he left me sitting in the dark. For so long…for such a long time… And then he said he'd tell me. A little quid pro quo."

Rusty's mouth twists.

"What did he make you do?"

Rusty shakes his head and sighs unhappily.

* * *

"What did he make you do?" Danny says again, his face horrified.

His imagination is starting up all over again because even if Bryn hasn't touched Rusty, it doesn't mean he couldn't coerce, couldn't make Rusty do a hundred things that-

"He asked me what you taste of when I kiss you." Leaden. Reluctant.

Danny blinks. It's not like they kiss on a regular basis. It's not like they're lovers in spite of what Bryn believes, in spite of what they've encouraged him to believe. Oh, there have been kisses of comfort over the years. When things have gone wrong and there has been fear and pain and the kiss is a way of showing what they can't express, the _"I almost lost you"_ and the _"I am always here"_. The kiss is like a hand on the arm or fingers in the hair. It's a physical demonstration of reassurance, of what they have between them. It isn't sexual. They aren't together together. There have only been two occasions when they have kissed each other like they've meant it. Like they would kiss if they _were_… And both times the recipient of the kiss hasn't responded. Because the reasons for the kisses have not required a response. It doesn't mean the experience has been forgotten.

Rusty is saying nothing. He is sitting on the edge of the couch, his shoulders hunched forward and his face is miserable. And Danny understands why. Because they never put this sort of thing into words to each other. They never talk about it to each other. And Bryn has dragged it from him, forced him to share...

"I'm sorry, Rus." And he is, he really is. "I'm so sorry but I need to hear it from you not from him."

Still, Rusty isn't saying anything.

"You want me to go first?" Danny offers quietly. "You want me to talk about grace and strength and passion and-"

"Happiness and freedom," Rusty interrupts, the words rushing out of him, falling over themselves. "A royal flush. Twenty-one. Like taking the house. Like perfection and the extraordinary and the incredible." He turns to face Danny and Danny bites his lip at what he sees. "The best," Rusty whispers.

They look at each other for a long moment and then Rusty shrugs.

"What can I say? He caught me at a weak moment."

Danny pulls him back into his arms and holds him tightly, so tightly, and he feels some of the tension leave Rusty as he softly strokes Rusty's hair. Bryn may not have stripped and violated Rusty except that he has. He has ripped away the control and has left Rusty exposed and naked and if Danny did not already hate Bryn for what he has done to Rusty and for what he wants to do to Rusty, this would have sealed the deal.

He has been seeing sex and violence. He has been seeing Bryn, merciless and brutal and sadistic. He has been seeing Rusty, abused and hurt and broken. And the reality of what has happened…the ruthless, unrelenting pressure of Bryn...the thought of Rusty living through that night and Bryn tearing and wearing him down…it sets Danny's teeth on edge.

"We're gonna have to face him," Rusty says wearily from somewhere near Danny's chest. "I'm gonna have to…"

"We're gonna have to," Danny corrects firmly and feels the tired smile.

"He'll be…"

"Yeah."

Bryn will. Triumphant and knowing.

Danny's glance falls on the bed.

"Let's grab some sleep. We need to be fresh to deal with him."

* * *

As they stand up, he is surprised to feel Danny leaving his side and then he sees Danny picking up the video tape and yanking the tape from the spools, then dropping it back to the ground and smashing it savagely under his heel. Rusty can tell that it's more than black plastic that Danny is attacking.

Destruction over, Danny returns to him and they kick their shoes off and curl up together on the bed.

"Do you think we're going to get used to it?" Rusty asks, yawning. "Not sleeping together?"

From somewhere over his shoulder, Danny smiles. "I think it may intrude on our social lives if we don't."

Rusty turns on to his back and looks up at him, the thoughts of what didn't happen and what did happen overwhelming him once more.

_Danny, I-_

_I know. I know._

Danny's lips press against Rusty's forehead and this time the kiss does every thing it is supposed to.

"Sleep, Rus."

* * *

The adrenaline is pumping through him and he can taste it, nervy and jumpy.

He is back in the room. The room with the door he can't open and the handle that isn't there with the man he can't escape standing in front of him.

"Where's Danny?" he demands, face full of rage.

"You're beautiful when you're angry."

He is angry; so very angry; so very, very angry.

"Where's Danny?" he repeats, spitting the words at Bryn.

Bryn smiles lazily at him.

"You know, I think it might be fun to have you undress me."

"No."

"Yes, Rus, yes," Bryn contradicts him and Rusty bites his lip.

Fingers that won't tremble – _won't_ tremble – loosen the bow tie from around Bryn's neck…ease his jacket off his shoulders…undo shirt buttons…pull clothes from Bryn's body till Bryn is standing naked and not bothered in front of him.

"Where's Danny?" Rusty asks, his eyes firmly fastened on Bryn's face.

A slow smile lights Bryn's face and Rusty concentrates on not thinking about the musk, the smell of excitement coming from Bryn, not thinking about the gleam in Bryn's eyes….

"That's gonna drive you crazy, isn't it? Right now, I'd say you'd do whatever I wanted you to do."

"No. Where's Danny?"

"Strip."

"No." Definite.

"Yes, Rus, yes."

With shaking hands, he removes his clothes and stands in front of Bryn who lets out a wolf whistle. Bryn's gaze is all over him. Just as it was when he came out of the shower. Just as it was when Bryn woke them up. Just as it always is any time they are together. Rusty steels himself.

"Where's Danny?" he says.

Bryn grins.

"Right now, I reckon I could ask you to jerk off in front of me."

"No!" Horrified.

"Yes, Rus, yes."

Bryn means it. Oh, Bryn means it… He squeezes his eyes shut briefly and then opens them again and stares somewhere over Bryn's shoulder, keeping all emotion off his face, as he lowers his hand and starts to work his own flesh.

"Where's Danny?" he says brokenly as he finishes.

The little pink tip of Bryn's tongue is visible between his lips.

"Now I want you to kiss me like you mean it."

"No…" Whispered.

"Yes, Rus, yes."

Fear and disgust and horror sicken through him. He stands in front of Bryn and he reaches up and pushes his mouth up against Bryn's and the kiss is dread and the kiss is abhorrence and the kiss twists him up inside.

"Where's Danny?" he whispers when he breaks away.

Bryn laughs softly.

"You have an extremely fuckable mouth."

"No…" Agonised.

"Yes, Rus, yes. I want you kneeling on the floor in front of me, taking a full load, swallowing and asking for seconds. And remember, seven _is_ my lucky number."

He is screaming. Silently and at the top of his voice.

* * *

He is back in the main room, Rusty with him, bodies pressing in to them. And suddenly, Rusty is torn away from his side, moving relentlessly away from him. Danny can see him being carried forward, swept towards the stage and he can't reach him, he can't get anywhere near him. He tries desperately but the faceless, baying crowd hold him in check.

"Rusty!" he shouts but he can't make himself heard. "Rusty!"

And just outside the immediate circle of men surrounding him, he sees Bryn, smiling and knowing and heading effortlessly after Rusty.

The lights dim and the screen lowers and it's a live feed straight into the room with the table and the couch and the bed. Except somehow the room is on the stage. And there is cheering and whooping and agony as Bryn pins Rusty down, his weight and strength keeping Rusty immobile, even as he is fighting, even as he is struggling.

"Rus! Rus!"

And then the screen flickers and dies and Danny can't see a thing and he is screaming. At the top of his voice and silently.

* * *

"Where's Danny?"

He's begging now. Begging because he needs to know. He has done everything asked of him and he needs to know that Danny is safe. And still Bryn smiles. He steps aside and Rusty sees the bed.

Danny. Stripped and spreadeagled and bound and blindfolded and gagged.

Bryn has the knife from the table in his hand. He turns it over and over and it glints, sharp and dangerous.

"Tell me what Danny tastes of," he says casually and Rusty thinks he may just die because Bryn is very clear about what he means. And he isn't talking kisses.

"No…" The sob is loud in his voice.

"You want to know what I think Danny tastes of?" The threat is clear.

"No!" Miserable and shouted.

Bryn has the knife. He presses it to Danny's throat and lets the blade trail round Danny's collarbone, round his shoulder, across Danny's chest.

"Tell me, Rus."

And the tip of the knife is digging in to Danny's flesh, drawing blood.

"No…" Whispered and full of despair.

"Yes, Rus, yes."

Desolation starts to run down his cheeks. He looks at the other end of the bed. Bryn smiling; Danny helpless; flecks of blood. There is no way he can do what Bryn's asking. But the only way he is going to find out where Danny is, is if he obeys. He bows his head and opens his mouth and does so.

* * *

Somehow, he has forced his way through to the edge of the stage and he clambers up on to it, kicking away the arms that reach out for him to drag him back down. Whatever has happened between Bryn and Rusty - and Danny's imaginings have been wild – has happened. Bryn is leaning up against a red wall and Rusty is lying face down on the bed.

"Rus…?"

He puts a gentle hand out and touches Rusty's shoulder. Rusty doesn't move.

"Rusty?"

Anxiety eats at him and he pulls Rusty over towards him, on to his back. Rusty's eyes are hollow and empty and defeated and broken and Danny's heart screws down and around on itself. He lets out a shaky moan and his fingers wrap into Rusty's hair and he folds Rusty up to him, holding on to him, wishing he could take away the pain and the degradation and the memory with touch alone.

He stays like that for the longest time and then he carefully lays Rusty back down and he turns and goes for Bryn, throwing himself at him, pulling back his arm and delivering the fiercest blow he can. Except that it isn't Bryn it connects with because Bryn is no longer there. Instead, it's Rusty. Rusty whose face is full of astonishment and hurt. Danny chokes back on a sob.

There's a laugh behind him and he turns with a snarl and flies at Bryn and punches hard. And once more it's Rusty. Eyes wide. Shocked and uncomprehending.

"No!" Tortured.

"Is it a guilty thrill?" Bryn asks from somewhere behind him. "Are you getting hard?"

"No!" he denies vehemently.

"I can tell he likes it."

Danny throws himself on Bryn, hitting with viciousness. But it isn't Bryn. It's Rusty. And Danny cries out with the pain of it all.

* * *

"Where's Danny?"

Dim darkness surrounds him. He is lying cuffed to the bed and staring up at the mirrored ceiling and the question is now more than a question. It is something to hang on to. Just as Danny is. Just as the thought of Danny always is.

Bryn's voice comes out of the blackness.

"If I want you, I can have you. Any way I want you. Any time I want you. If I want to, Rusty. And I want to. You'd better get used to the way I feel and the way I taste. You'd better get used to the idea of me. Because we're not talking once. I am going to have you as often as I want to. As often as I can."

He can't hide the shaking anymore. It takes over his body. He closes his eyes and then he feels Bryn's hands on him, running over his hips.

"I'm gonna be fucking you so hard you won't know what day of the week it is."

The whimper rises unbidden and he is only partly successful in stifling it.

"All the time I'm burying myself in your mouth…all the time I'm using your body…all the time my hands are on your shoulders…all the time my fingers are tight in your hair…"

Bryn's breath is on his cheek and he can't move, can't pull away…

"You don't get to go anywhere."

He cries out with the pain of it all.

* * *

They wake within seconds of each other to shaking and sweating and silent sobs and Rusty grabs Danny with desperation and Danny's hands are on his face and the force of the nightmares has been such that neither of them plans to let the other one go at any time in the immediate future.

"Rus…" Danny whispers and he looks at Rusty and sees the terror and the anguish.

"Danny," Rusty's voice is trembling and he looks at Danny and sees the wretchedness and the grief.

Bryn cannot win. He cannot win. But at the moment, neither of them would be able to sell the lie that he isn't doing just that.

* * *

A/N: Next chapter is back in the main fic.


End file.
